


Coffee and Company

by ghostofgatsby



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Autumn, Coffee, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, drabbles-for-charity-prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 22:32:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15616464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostofgatsby/pseuds/ghostofgatsby
Summary: Sips sits down beside Trott, pressing up against his side and handing him his drink. Sips' calico scarf flutters in the wind, discordant coloring draped over his burgundy and black bomber jacket. “Caramel macchiato for you, and a mocha frappuccino for me.” He clinks his styrofoam cup against Trott’s, and stretches his free arm across the back of the park bench.Sips glances at the river and frowns. “Aw, shit, I forgot to bring bread for the ducks.”





	Coffee and Company

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SecretShadowDust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretShadowDust/gifts).



> For the "drabbles"-for-charities thing I'm doing. Find info about it here:  
> https://ghostofgatsby13.wordpress.com/2018/06/21/the-world-sucks-and-theres-no-fic-to-read-lets-change-that/
> 
> SecretShadowDust requested some soft and funny Sips/Trott, with autumn aesthetics. I guess in this, Sips is a politician of some kind, and Trott works in a business office environment. Hope you like it, SecretShadowDust ^^.
> 
> reblog: https://ghostofgatsby13.wordpress.com/2018/08/08/coffee-and-company-ghostofgatsby
> 
> Trott:  
> https://cdn8.bigcommerce.com/s-r7ihm/images/stencil/1280x1280/products/607/2068/BW100navyhunter1__36815.1504795882.jpg?c=2&imbypass=on&imbypass=on
> 
> Sips:  
> http://s7d2.scene7.com/is/image/TrueReligion/msqbh4bz5_6000_frt1?$dfs_large$

Trott self-consciously tugs at the buckle fasteners at the front of his navy blue shawl. The metal park bench is cold on the back of his legs. The thin fabric of his dress shirt and pants just barely keeps out the chill of the autumn morning, but the knitted wool shawl he’s wearing over it is keeping his shoulders and torso warm.

Leaves skitter across the pavement in front of the bench, cluttering the sidewalk that looped around the riverside park. A young woman jogs past with a stroller, talking to someone on her cell phone, while the toddler inside stares out at the ducks in the water. The nearby sound of city traffic is serene in its certainty, cars continually moving, people going places.

Trott had half an hour before he had to be in at the office, and it was nice to take this moment of reprieve before the rush of a work day.

Sips sits down beside him, pressing up against Trott’s side and handing him his drink. His calico scarf flutters in the wind, discordant coloring draped over his burgundy and black bomber jacket. “Caramel macchiato for you, and a mocha frappuccino for me.” He clinks his styrofoam cup against Trott’s, and stretches his free arm across the back of the park bench. Sips glances at the river and frowns. “Aw, _shit_ , I forgot to bring bread for the ducks.”

Trott takes a sip of his hot coffee and licks caramel from his lips. “You’re not supposed to feed the waterfowl, Sips.”

“Yeah, but how else am I supposed to amass an army of angry birds?”

Trott smiles. In the river, the ducks ruffle their feathers, as if punctuating Sips’ statement in grumpy agreement. “You’ll have to persuade them without the bribery. That’s the only way to get someone to really follow you, you know.” He turns his head to look at Sips, watching him take a long drink of his coffee.

“And when did that ever work in this city of lies?” Sips tuts. “Place is full of money passing from hand to hand.”

“You tell me, I’m not the politician.”

“Good thing, too.” Sips sighs, a wry smile crossing his face. He looks back at Trott and wipes a dot of whipped cream off of Trott’s nose. “Never get into politics, Trotty. It’ll ruin you.”

“You seem to be doing fine,” Trott counters.

“Yeah, ‘cause I fake it.” Sips blows air into his drink to cool it. “Somehow my soul hasn’t been leached out of my body because of those greedy bastards. But you, well. You’re better than them. Better than all those pompous upstarts with so much money they forget how to be human beings.”

Trott chuckles quietly, turning his drink in his hands to warm his fingers. “You really think so, huh.” Trott had worked his way up in the company he was at. But he wasn’t always sure about what he was doing, if he was making the right choices.

“You should keep making your own path, Trott. It does no good to follow someone elses’, and not your own,” Sips says.

“Such wisdom from the great Sipsy.” Trott grins, brushing his bangs out of his eyes when a gust of chilly wind rushes past them. “What makes you so philosophical this morning?”

“Nothing, just back on my bullshit. Being older means it all comes pissing out whenever The Youth are around.”

Trott laughs. “You’re only a handful of years older than me. There’s not that much of an age gap.”

Sips leans over and kisses his cheek. “And don’t you forget it. I’m not _that_ ‘wise beyond my years’. Yet.”


End file.
